Tuesday 7 June 2011

You never know what can happen.

A regional journalist has to be knowledgeable about those she or he is covering.
That being said working as a regional journalist I have found it can be difficult to detach yourself from the people and places you cover.
Therefore our job is more than the distribution of fact-based information.
It can be difficult to remove yourself from issues and events when you are living and working in a small regional community.
You encounter face-to-face contact with the people of the community every day, whether you run into them at the supermarket or the local fish and chip shop.
While this makes it hard to strive for independence on the issues and people we cover, it can also make for more acute information distribution and a better understanding of how issues and events correlate back to the people.
We strive to recognise the issues of the people and this in-turn can help us objectively dissect issues so they can be more easily understood.
Hunting down local stories in regional communities and getting to the source of how they relate to the people is a line that is balanced every day.
This does not give us the privilege to construct lies or distort reality.
We do strive to be fair and complete by applying our judgment to the available information, but at the same time are aware of the role we play in the community as watch dogs.
A regional journalist needs to engage the citizenry and the experts/elite through the dissemination and generation of content that matters to the people at a local level.
In the larger context of news information it becomes crucial to find the local angle.
The internet has changed the way journalist work.
The internet has made it possible for anyone with a computer to access and disseminate information as widely as the biggest news organisations.
But this does not replace a regional journalist on ground covering the events of the day in a valuable and reliable way.
When I woke up on Wednesday, February 23 I didn't think I would be ‘boating’ down a driveway.
But what I have come to realise about this job is on most days you can’t know what to expect.
I could be as bold to say that maybe that’s what journalist live, or should I say strive for; the possibility of the unknown that each day can bring.
To understand this particular day you will need some back story.
As I said earlier it was February. For some this could symbol the month that comes after January, but for the residents of the small farming community of Benjeroop and Murrabit West it was a month of devastation, a word I became accustomed to saying during this period of my time in Kerang.
The municipality was a month shy from experiencing the worst flood event for nearly a century.
The small farming communities of Benjeroop and Murrabit West were one of the worst hit by the natural disaster.
In the area 12,000 hectares of farming property and 25 homes were submerged in flood water and many stayed that way for over two months.
In a desperate bid to get rid of the water the communities found themselves in a rearguard action with bureaucracy. But that’s another story.
During my flood coverage I kept a close watch on the plight of the Benjeroop and Murrabit West residents, so much so my editor nick named me the “Benjeroop correspondent”.
During this time I developed and maintained a strong contact with the chief flood warden of the Benjeroop area, Lindsay Schultz.
Mr Schultz was and still is the advocate for the area, fighting to restore the lives of residents.
On Tuesday I called him to get an up-date on the houses that remained inundated in the area.
Call it luck or a valuable lesson in keeping regular contact with sources, but as it turns out he told me a journalist and cameraman from the ABC were coming to the area tomorrow to do a story on flood-affected residents whose houses were inundated.
The conversation that followed went something like this.
Me: Do you think I can come along?
Lindsay: I don’t think that should be a problem. Just give us a call in the morning.
The first thing I did when I got in the office the next morning was call him.
I have come to see Mr Schultz as a reliable and one of my strongest news contacts in the area.
But having said that I am aware we both have agendas, me as a reporter and Mr Schultz as a citizen.
In the end it is up to me to decide whether to run with the scoops (as he calls it) that he offers or let them fall by the waste side because I might not see the relevance he sees. I feel this is a challenge because I know he expects me to write the stories he provides and as he is a good source I feel I don’t want to let him down.
I didn’t know what to expect.
I had seen the vastness of water that surrounded the town of Kerang during the flood but I would describe this as “something else”.
I arrived at Lindsay’s house upon instruction just after 10am that morning.
There I meet the ABC reporter, her cameraman, helicopter pilot and two residents from the Benjeroop area.
Before I knew it we boarded two small motorised tin boats and were heading towards the flooded properties. I was excited and nervous at the same time.
I was excited because I was about to see for the first time the extent of damage the floods had caused, the impact it had on the residents and knowing my story would highlight this for the rest of the community to see.
My nervousness, which I did not fully realise until we had reached the first house, was realising I am a reporter there to do a job. I would also say this was one of the first moral dilemmas I had experienced as a working journalist. I will expand on this later.
To get to the houses we literally boated across what use to be land metres below us where cars two months ago drove down.
Hence the term ‘boating’ down the driveway.
The boat approached the first house.
The water lapped a metre away from the foot of both entrances.
Most of the water had receded from inside the houses which made them accessible if you had gumboots or waders.
I found myself inside these houses, or structures in which residents had created homes and to see the inside ripped apart was really heartbreaking.
I found myself thinking how I would interview these residents who had just stepped foot inside their homes for the first time in weeks.
I knew what I wanted to know or what could be seen as the obvious questions; how does this make you feel etc.
It was here I understood the issues that come with being an ethical storyteller when dealing with victims of tragedy, and how to best understand the fragility and respect the dignity of the flood victims I interviewed.
The relationship I had with them was in some ways established before I stepped on the boat. Being transparent in my role as a reporter made it easier for me to remain intrepidly focused on the task and report on the truth as I found it.
They knew I was a journalist and I was there to tell their story, and it was one that should be heard. I look back on this day as a reminder of the most rewarding aspects of my job. Telling the stories of and sharing the lives of people in the community.

No comments:

Post a Comment